


flowers in his lungs, butterflies in his stomach, love in his whole

by yearningbi



Series: moonlit love [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Akaashi Keiji is Bad at Feelings, Akaashi Keiji-centric, Cuddling & Snuggling, Happy Ending, M/M, No Dialogue, Pining, Self-Indulgent, Unrequited Love, kind of angst?, or so he thinks, this was written at 2am to make me feel better
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-30
Updated: 2020-05-30
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:46:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24462970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yearningbi/pseuds/yearningbi
Summary: leaking through the open window, the ever persistent hum of the city, the light from the street lamps, the rolling of tires against asphalt, the occasional chatter of a passerby couple.at nights like this, all keiji can do is think, and think, and think.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou
Series: moonlit love [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1769047
Comments: 9
Kudos: 57





	flowers in his lungs, butterflies in his stomach, love in his whole

he couldn’t sleep. the thoughts got the better of him, tonight. silent tears streaming down his face, he has learnt long ago how to cry without making noise. 

leaking through the open window, the ever persistent hum of the city, the light from the street lamps, the rolling of tires against asphalt, the occasional chatter of a passerby couple. 

he could see the moon from the window. without his glasses on, it looked like a blurry glowing half-circle in the sky. every few minutes, a cloud would hide the moon from view. 

he wished so hard he could stop feeling so miserable. he wished so hard he could stop feeling. it wasn’t practical. wasn’t helping. it brought him more pain than anything, when he was alone.

but when he was with koutarou... it was the most beautiful thing in the world. flowers bloomed from his lungs and butterflies fed on them in his stomach. he could soar to the moon, he could glow brighter than the sun. he could be a better person, with koutarou. 

but alone, he was simply keiji. loving with such an intensity, destined to never be loved the same. how could he be, when his feelings enveloped him, like the darkness he found himself in night after night, when his feelings swallowed him whole, holding him tight, never letting go? 

he had accepted that long ago, when koutarou graduated. he didn’t tell him then, and he sure won’t tell him now. it would be holding him back, he has such a bright future ahead. he could very well play pro if he put his mind to it, and not a stupid teen romance keiji wanted so bad. 

still, keiji’s feelings came second in this race, his admiration and respect to koutarou, his love towards koutarou, would never be as important as koutarou’s self fulfillment, never as important as the reaching of his full potential. 

keiji loved so intensely it might as well kill him. not literally, but some nights, much like this one, he sure felt like it could. when he was all alone in his room, his thoughts occupying the entire space, he felt like they were squeezing down on his heart, his lungs, his everything, his love for koutarou ever so intense, washing over him, drowning him. 

all alone in his room, keiji was suffering. he wanted to call koutarou, hear about his day, about volleyball practice, about the stupid things he did with kuroo. he wanted to hear what he had for lunch and how boring class was and what his plans are for tomorrow and how he misses him so. 

alas, keiji knows koutarou doesn’t feel like that. he will never confess. he can suffice for this falling-apart friendship, one he has failed to maintain. he wanted to, so bad, but koutarou could never be his. 

so keiji sits in bed. stares at the wall. cries silent tears. he would never confess. he knows he cannot be loved with the same intensity as he loves, and it makes sense but he hates it, he learnt to live with it but he still wants to make it stop. 

it’s 2am. he doesn’t feel like he’s going to fall asleep any time soon. he sits in bed, looking out the window, at the blurry spots of light that are the street lamps, the houses neatly arranged one beside the other, the glowing signs that he cannot read, the people he does not know. 

keiji doesn’t want to feel this empty when his love takes up the space of the whole room. he doesn’t know how it’s possible, when he feels so much that he feels nothing. his phone lights up. a text. 

a text from koutarou. 

he’s outside. right now. at 2am. with the rest of the world tucked away in the safety of their homes, the warmth and quiet of their beds. 

he’s right behind the door. keiji wants to deny jumping off the bed and sprinting to the door, but he can’t. with a shaking hand, he turns the key. his parents aren’t even at home, like always. 

he opens the door, and there he stands. bokuto koutarou, 6’1, 19 years old, love of his life. neither say a word for a minute. they just stare into each other’s eyes, and in the dimly lit street, through teary eyes and blurry vision, keiji sees it. 

oh. he thinks. 

koutarou pulls him into the tightest hug, refusing to let go. good. keiji thinks. don’t ever let go. 

he has to, eventually, as they walk in silence to keiji’s room. as a light turns on, koutarou notices the puffy, bloodshot eyes, the pale cheeks, the bags under his eyes that run darker and deeper than he thought was possible. 

they sit on the bed. look into each other’s eyes. keiji can see now, he was stupid. not for loving, but for believing he was not loved. while wallowing in his misery, he forgot one key element. bokuto koutarou was all about intensity. 

they didn’t kiss that night. they didn’t need to. they knew, they had all the time in the world. so for tonight, keiji settled for strong arms around him, a leg over his, no longer darkness enveloping him, but pure, unadulterated love. one he couldn’t deny, one he didn’t even remember why he denied himself of.

one that filled him to the brim with happiness. he never felt empty again, because of love. it was flowers in his lungs, butterflies in his stomach, love in his heart. 

love in his whole.

**Author's Note:**

> uhh. i’m pretty sad. akaashi is my comfort character and i want to be loved and i want him to be loved. this is just a milkshake of thoughts and feelings and i don’t even know how good it came out. 
> 
> i hope you could enjoy my rambling and honest to god bullshit that this is.


End file.
